Theo barely felt the shift.
Atlas exploded forward. But something was different. The change was instantaneous—too fast, too smooth. Even for him. There was no slow breaking of bones, no painful rearranging of his body. Just a pulse of something deep, something raw, something ancient— And then he was running. Faster than he ever had before. Luka and Darius were only a second behind him, shifting into their wolves to follow. But they were slower. Too slow. Because Theo was moving like something else entirely. He didn’t think about it. He couldn’t. His paws slammed into the earth, his breath came in ragged bursts, and Atlas was a storm of fury and agony. He didn’t know where they were going. Didn’t know where the trail would lead. It didn’t matter. They would find someone. And they would make them talk. The scent of a rogue drifted through the trees. Theo veered left without hesitation, his body a shadow in the dark. The rogue never saw him coming. One moment, he was standing there, adjusting the strap of his belt. The next— Atlas struck. The force of his body crushed the rogue instantly, sending him flying into the base of a tree with a sickening crack. Before the wolf could react, Atlas’ teeth were at his throat. The rogue let out a strangled sound—a whimper, barely even a scream. Then—silence. Atlas dropped the body. Not even a fight. Pathetic. Luka and Darius finally caught up, panting. They both stilled when they saw what was left of the rogue. Theo turned toward them, Atlas still raging beneath his skin. He saw the way they looked at him. Like they had seen something different. But Theo wasn’t in the mood for questions. Because the rage hadn’t left. The pain hadn’t lessened. He needed more. The next rogue ran. He must have heard them coming, must have caught the scent of blood and vengeance in the air. Theo let him run. Just for a second. Then— He pounced. His massive form collided with the rogue mid-stride, sending them both tumbling through the dirt. The rogue twisted, snarling, clawing—desperate. Theo let him struggle. Then he sank his fangs into his ribs, twisting, cracking something deep. The rogue screamed. It wasn’t a clean kill. Theo didn’t want it to be. Luka shifted beside him. “Alpha—” Theo ignored him. The rogue wasn’t dead yet. Which meant he could still deliver a message. Theo leaned in close, his breath hot against the rogue’s ear. “Tell them,” he growled. The rogue whimpered. “Tell them I’m coming.” Then, with one final snap of his jaws, he finished it. Darius caught the next one. A young rogue, barely an adult. Darius had him pinned, the young wolf squirming in the dirt, eyes wide with terror. Theo stalked forward, shifting mid-stride. His human form felt too tight, too unnatural. His muscles still thrummed with something more. Something older. He grabbed the rogue by the throat, yanking him upright. “Where is she?” The rogue trembled. “I—I don’t know.” Wrong answer. Theo slammed him back against a tree, hard enough to make the bark splinter. His blue eyes burned. “Where. Is. She.” The rogue whimpered, blood trailing from his lips. “I swear—I don’t know. I don’t know!” Theo’s jaw tightened. Luka shifted beside him, breathing hard. “Theo, he’s just a kid—” Theo turned his head sharply, locking eyes with Luka. Luka shut up. Because Theo wasn’t playing by pack rules anymore. He was playing by his own. The rogue gasped for breath. “I—there was—there was another message.” Theo’s fingers dug into his throat. “Where?” The rogue weakly lifted a hand, shaky and trembling, pointing toward a small pouch at his hip. Darius ripped it open and pulled out another torn piece of parchment. Theo snatched it. And as soon as he read the words— Everything stopped. “The fire-haired one is slipping away.” “Soon, she will not know your name.” “Soon, she will belong to us.” Theo’s hands shook. Something inside him snapped. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Atlas howled. A gut-wrenching, bone-deep sound of agony. His hands curled into fists. His vision blurred. His chest ached. For the first time, pure, unfiltered fear clawed through him. Because he could handle losing her. He could fight for her. But if she forgot him? If she didn’t remember his name? If she looked at him and didn’t know who he was? That would be worse than death. Theo’s breath came in short, sharp bursts. Then— He turned back to the rogue. And finished it. His wolves watched him in silence. The message lingered in the air like smoke. But Theo wasn’t shaking anymore. He wasn’t losing control. He was becoming something else. Something colder. Something sharper. His voice was calm when he spoke. But it was deadly. “She is mine.” “Even if I have to make her remember.” “Even if I have to tear the world apart.” Then— Theo shifted. And disappeared into the dark.Willow sat in the cold, damp cell, her back pressed against the stone wall.The air smelled of mildew and blood—her own, she realized distantly. The cuffs around her wrists had bitten into her skin from her earlier attempts to break free. She wasn’t fighting anymore.There was nothing to fight against.Nothing was happening.Just silence.It stretched through the room, thick and suffocating, pressing in from every side.It was the kind of silence that made the world feel distant. Unreal.The kind that made her feel like she didn’t exist at all.The door creaked open.She didn’t flinch.She didn’t even look up.She already knew who it was.It was him. The one who had taken her, the one who watched her like she was a puzzle waiting to be solved.He stepped inside with the same casual confidence, his footsteps slow, deliberate.Willow could hear the faint rustle of his clothing, the controlled cadence of his breathing. He wasn’t in a rush.Because he had already won.She hated that thoug
“Selene.”The moment Willow spoke her true name, the world fractured.She was no longer in the damp, suffocating cell.She was somewhere else.Somewhere she had been before.The air was thick with smoke and ash.The sky burned in shades of gold and crimson.The ground beneath her feet—scorched. Stained red with the blood of the fallen.She stood at the center of a war.Wolves lay slaughtered around her. Some still twitched, some still clung to life, but none would survive.And yet—she felt no fear.Because this was her war.And she was born for it. She was the reason for it. A voice cut through the chaos.“Selene!”She turned—and saw herself.No.Not herself.Her mother.A woman with wild red hair and piercing green eyes, her body covered in blood and battle scars.She was beautiful. She was terrifying.And in her arms—A child.A baby with fire in her veins.The child reached out, grasping at the smoke-filled air.And suddenly—Selene remembered.She was not just a Luna.She was not
He stood in the shadows, watching.He did not pace. He did not fidget.He had waited too long for this moment to betray himself with impatience.The girl—Selene—sat motionless in her cell, her red hair falling over her face, her breathing steady, almost too steady.She was close.He could feel it.The spell had worked.The mate bond had been cut off-not broken, but sealed away, buried beneath layers of magic older than the packs themselves.Without it, she had nothing tying her to this life.Nothing but the past.And now?Now it was only a matter of time before the past consumed her.For so long, she had been lost.Buried under a false name, a false life.A Luna of the Onyx Pack. A mate. A lover. A woman who did not exist.He had watched. He had waited.He had seen the way she laughed, lived, loved.A tragedy.A waste.She was never meant for that life.She was meant for this.For war.For power.For vengeance.She had been forged in fire and blood.And now, at last, she would rememb
He watched her carefully, his expression calm.Too calm.Because he had not yet decided if he had made a mistake.Selene sat motionless, her green eyes burning into him, her wrists raw from the silver cuffs that still held her. The chains dug into her skin, biting with every movement, but she gave no indication of pain. She didn’t flinch, didn’t shift, didn’t try to pull away.And yet—she looked nothing like a prisoner.She looked like a queen waiting for her moment to strike.The dim torchlight flickered across the stone walls, casting shadows that danced in eerie patterns. The room was silent, save for the occasional drip of water from somewhere unseen. But the true silence was between them. A silence thick with unspoken words, with tension stretched so tight it was suffocating.He had expected rage.Expected her to fight, to lash out, to demand answers.But she didn’t.She just watched.And smiled.Not a pleasant smile. Not the kind that spoke of kindness or mercy.No, this was som
The bond snapped back into place like a lightning strike.It wasn’t gentle.It wasn’t slow.It was sudden, violent, all-consuming.One second, Theo was running, his mind clouded with rage and exhaustion, his body raw from the hunt.The next—It hit him.His entire world shattered.The force of it knocked the air from his lungs, his muscles locking up as if he had been struck by something unseen.His foot caught on a root.His body lurched forward.And then he fell.Hard.He hit the forest floor, shifting mid-air, his human form slamming into the dirt.He barely felt the impact.Because all he could feel was her.Willow.The mate bond that had been severed, lost, stolen from him—It was back.It was whole.And it was screaming.His warriors barely had time to react.Luka and Darius skidded to a halt behind him, dirt and leaves flying as they tried not to crash into their Alpha.“Alpha—”Theo couldn’t breathe.He dug his fingers into the ground, gasping.His vision was blurring, flicker
The night wasn’t silent anymore. Theoden could hear his own breathing, his heartbeat, the pounding of his blood in his veins. Everything was louder, sharper—alive in a way it hadn’t been in years. No. Centuries. The memories still pulsed at the edges of his mind—flashes of war, of fire, of Selene’s tears as she reached for him one last time. His past. His truth. It had all been buried. Until now. “Alpha Theo—” Luka started, but Theoden spoke first. “I remember.” His voice was low, calm. But it hit the clearing like thunder. His warriors froze. Luka’s brow furrowed. “Remember what?” Darius, still catching his breath, frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?” Theoden inhaled slowly. Then—he looked them in the eye. “My name is Theoden.” Silence. A heavy, unnatural stillness. Luka took a step back. Darius let out a breath—a disbelieving, almost stunned laugh. “No.” He shook his head, eyes flashing. “No, that’s not possible.” One of the wa
The village was quiet.Too quiet.Theoden barely heard the footsteps of his pack as they moved around him, speaking in hushed voices, their worry hanging in the air like mist.But none of it mattered.Not the whispers.Not the cautious glances thrown his way.Not even the tension of knowing that the man who had taken her was still out there.Because right now, all that mattered was her.Selene.She lay in the softest bed the pack’s hospital had to offer, wrapped in warm blankets, her red hair a stark contrast against the white sheets.She looked peaceful. But she was still asleep.Still not waking up. And Theoden didn’t know why.Theoden stood at the edge of the room, arms crossed tightly over his chest.His eyes never left her.Not once.Behind him, the pack doctor, Matthias, shifted uncomfortably before clearing his throat.“She’s stable,” Matthias said carefully. “Her vitals are strong. There’s no sign of injury, no internal damage, nothing physically keeping her under.”Theoden’s
The days blurred together. Three had passed, and still, Selene slept. Theoden barely left her side. When he did, it was only for the barest of moments—to shower, to grab food, though he had no appetite. He forced himself to eat anyway, because he knew she would be upset if she woke and found him wasting away. So he ate. Even a salad. She’d be so proud. He laughed softly to himself as he thought it. But the moment he was done, he was back at her side, back in that chair that had become his prison and sanctuary all at once. He never let her go untouched. A hand resting on her knee, fingers tangled in hers, lips pressed to her forehead. Always touching. Always reminding her that he was there. On the second day, he found a book of poetry she liked and began reading aloud to her. His voice was steady, deep, the words flowing into the stillness of the room, as if they could bridge the distance between them. He never stopped touching her as he read, his thumb absently tracing ci
The woods were still this time of day. The kind of stillness that came not from silence, but from peace. Not the tense hush before a storm—but the exhale that follows one. Two wolves darted between the trees, pelts flashing silver white and black as they raced toward the river. Nova and Atlas—Selene and Theoden. They weren’t chasing anything anymore. Just the wind. Just the freedom they’d fought so hard to earn. They reached the river at the same time, skidding down the bank and crashing into the water with a roar of splashes and barked laughter. A few moments later, two smaller wolves barreled out of the woods, one dark gray with white paws, the other reddish-gold with eyes too clever for her age. Their children. Kael and Lyra. They tumbled into the shallows, wrestling their parents with soaked fur and wagging tails, before the whole family finally shifted back to human form, dripping and breathless. Selene grinned as she squeezed water from her hair. Theoden pulled her close, p
The earth felt still again. Not dead. Not dormant. Just… still. Like the world had exhaled for the first time in centuries and was finally resting. Selene stood at the crest of a hill just outside Silvercrest, the wind brushing through her hair. The sky was soft, the clouds drifting like whispers. Below her, warriors were gathering. Onyx wolves, Silvercrest wolves, and the remnants of what had once been scattered. Now, they were united. Whole. Behind her, Theoden walked up the hill, his steps quiet. He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. “Ready?” he asked softly. Selene leaned back against him. “I think… I’ve been ready for this more than anything else.” He kissed her temple, slow and lingering. “Then let’s go home.” They returned to Silvercrest first, gathering their things, tending wounds, thanking those who had fought beside them. Cassiel had moved in with the pack. It seemed fitting for the last Elder to be with the pack that guarded t
Theoden stood at the base of the archway, staring up at the massive stone door. It towered above them, ancient and unmoving, but alive in a way that made his skin crawl. The markings etched into its surface pulsed faintly, like the thrum of a heartbeat buried in rock. This wasn’t just a door—it was a wound in the fabric of the world. And they were finally going to seal it. Selene stepped beside him, her fingers brushing against his. “I remember,” she whispered, her voice steady. “I remember the words. The symbols. The rhythm.” “So do I,” Theoden replied. The last time these words had been spoken, it was by a circle of Elders. But instead of sealing the door, they’d used the ritual to erase Selene and Theoden—trapping their souls outside of time, tearing them from the world. The Elders had feared the door, but more than that, they feared the ones born to protect it. This time, the ritual would not erase them. This time, it would fulfill its purpose. Selene turned to Luka and Da
Theoden sat beneath the silver light of twilight, his back resting against the base of a cracked pillar. Smoke still curled through the trees from what was left of the battlefield, and the earth beneath him was scorched, still warm to the touch. But the worst of the fire had passed. The world was still standing. He was still breathing. He closed his eyes, inhaling slowly as he pressed a hand over his chest, where the embers of Atlas’s flame had entered him. The skin there still burned faintly—not in pain, but with something deeper. Something sacred. “You should be resting.” Atlas’s voice drifted into his mind again. Still present. Still alive. Theoden smiled faintly. “I am.” “No, you’re brooding.” A breath of laughter escaped him, but it came out soft. Fragile. “Maybe.” A long silence passed between them. “You weren’t supposed to come back,” Theoden said finally. Atlas’s voice was steady, almost too calm. “Neither were you.” Theoden let his head fall back against the ston
Aylexelen shattered into light. It wasn’t like before—no scream of rage, no final attempt at vengeance. Just one long, drawn-out silence as Selene, Nova, and Atlas poured every last ounce of their power into him. The golden light from Selene’s chest merged with Nova’s brilliance and Atlas’ fire, converging like the universe itself had been holding its breath for this moment. And then—he was gone. Ash. Dust. Nothing. The silence that followed felt too heavy to be real. Selene stood there, barely breathing, her power still pulsing at her fingertips. Nova hovered beside her, glowing in her own separate form, but Selene didn’t feel triumphant. She didn’t feel relief. She felt…something. Wrong. Her chest twisted. She turned. And her world collapsed. Theoden was lying in the dirt. Not moving. Not breathing. “No—” His skin was pale. His lips parted just slightly. His beautiful blue eyes—those eyes that had stared into hers with fire and love and life—were closed. And the b
The battlefield was glowing. Golden light and blazing fire twisted through the smoke, dancing across the scarred earth like twin storms. Nova and Atlas moved as if they had always existed separate from their hosts, as if their power had always belonged to this plane. They were magnificent—unstoppable. One, a shimmering beacon of celestial light, the other a relentless inferno tearing through darkness. Selene and Theoden stood at the center of it all, the door looming behind them. A structure ancient beyond measure. Carved from obsidian stone, humming with quiet power. And standing before them—Aylexelen. His silver eyes shone with amusement. And beneath it, something else. Hunger. He raised a hand, and the corrupted creatures that slithered and crawled behind him surged forward. But they didn’t reach Selene or Theoden. Atlas shot through the front line, a living flame ripping into the monstrous shapes, burning them into nothing. Nova followed a second later, glowing so brightl
The world tilted sideways.Selene sucked in a ragged breath, blinking through the haze clinging to her eyes. Her ears rang with silence—not peace, but a high, slicing stillness that felt like it might shatter under its own weight. Every nerve in her body screamed from the inside out, but she was alive. She was whole. Somehow.Beside her, Theoden stirred with a sharp groan, his face twisted in confusion, pain etched into every line. His chest rose in heaving, uneven gasps as he dragged himself upright, eyes wide and searching.They were alive.But the world around them didn’t feel like the one they’d left behind.The sky above rippled with the dying light of the eclipse, pale gold bleeding into deep blue like the horizon hadn’t yet decided what time it was. The ground beneath them was scorched, cracked open in jagged veins of heat, still pulsing with something that didn’t belong. Something other.Selene tried to stand, but her legs shook beneath her. Theoden steadied her instinctively
“Watch out!” Selene barely had time to dodge. A rogue lunged at her from the right—jaws wide, eyes feral—but Theoden was already there, fire lashing from his hand in a controlled arc. It caught the rogue midair, burning him to ash before he hit the ground. “Two more incoming!” Theoden shouted. Selene pivoted, golden light already pulsing at her fingertips. She sent a wave of power crashing into the approaching wolves, flinging them backward like broken dolls. The ground was slick now. Mud and blood mixed beneath her boots. War was no longer a word. It was a smell. A sound. A rhythm in her bones. “Fall back!” Luka’s voice roared through the smoke. “Darius, come on!” The two warriors appeared out of the chaos, bloodied but still fighting, retreating toward Selene and Theoden’s position. Luka skidded to a halt beside her, panting, blood dripping from a gash above his eye. “We can’t hold the line.” Darius crashed in a second later, barely on his feet. “This is insane! They just
It began with screaming. Selene jolted upright, heart hammering, as a deafening howl ripped through the trees. Theoden was already on his feet, eyes glowing, pulling her up beside him before the echo faded. They weren’t at the front. Not this time. They were at the back—the last line of defense. The door rose behind them, carved into the cliff, ancient and closed. For now. Its weight pressed against their minds, humming with silent, dormant power. War had come. They turned. The clearing ahead was already chaos. Rogues flooded from the trees like a tidal wave—snarling, clawing, feral. Selene could barely count how many. Dozens. Hundreds. Too many. Onyx and Silvercrest warriors met them with a battle cry, forming a wall of teeth and steel. Luka and Darius were there—at the center of the line, side by side, holding firm. But already, the field was slick with blood. Selene’s eyes tracked a young warrior—barely out of his teens—slashing with trembling hands before being tackled